


Youthful Indiscretions

by Ruby_fruit



Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: M/M, Multi, just khadgar getting dicked, no redeeming qualities, that's it that's the fic, very affectionate gangbangs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:59:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7664107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruby_fruit/pseuds/Ruby_fruit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>super indulgent happy fun gangbang times for young Khadgar. brief mention of established Lothar/Khadgar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Youthful Indiscretions

“Come on,” Anduin says, stretched across Khadgar’s bed, sweaty and cooling, “you can’t tell me a bunch teenagers never got up to trouble in that city. So give it up, what was the worst thing you did?“ He wiggles his eyebrows at Khadgar. “Stole a bottle of moonshine and got drunk in the stables?”

Khadgar, Anduin’s head resting on his belly, rolls his eyes. “We were mage apprentices, not choir boys, so of course we did.” He smiles, considering. “And it was a bottle of Hearthglen ambrosia, not moonshine.”

“Really? How high-brow, bookworm. Tell me, did you vomit afterwards?” Anduin asks, all false innocence with his rumpled beard and red mouth.

Khadgar grins, confident he’s got the upper hand here. “Oh, so you’ve heard of it,” he says, gently condescending, “and no, no one vomited. It wasn't the stables either, it was an empty ambassador’s suite.”

Anduin gives him an impressed look. “Not bad,” he admitted.

“It was the only place with a bed big enough for all six of us, absolutely covered in all these fussy little pillows,” Khadgar says, absently carding his fingers through Anduin’s hair, remembering. “I was the only novitiate at the time, and not all of them wanted me there at first, thinking I’d run off and tell their teachers on them.”

Lothar snorts at the idea of Khadgar tattling like that. “Didn’t they know you?”

“Only casually-- they kept the novitiates separate. And don't interrupt, you’re a terrible listener,” Khadgar says fondly. “Anyway, we didn't get drunk, not really. There were too many of us for one bottle. But we were tipsy enough, and Derik was whining about how he’d never been kissed.”

*

Khadgar tipped the bottle upside down and let the last of the liquor trickle into his mouth, the background noise of Derik whining and the other boys taking the piss. He pulled his mouth off with a pop and dropped the empty bottle on the bed. 

"For Light's sake Derik, here." Khadgar wiggled across two set of knees to drop himself in the other boy's lap. "If it means so damned much to you I will throw myself on the sword. Kiss me." Khadgar bats his eyes at the dark, curly haired boy whose biggest issue was -- with both kissing and spell casting -- a complete lack of follow through.

Derik goes even darker and shoves at him as the others laugh. "You're a dick, Khadgar."

"Hey!" Khadgar says, grabbing at his hands. "Genuine offer here, I’m not making fun," he promises, blinking sincerely if a little blearily at the other boy, who is pretty cute, if rather hopeless.

Derik is still eyeing him like he thinks it's a trap, so Khadgar sighs, takes Derik’s face between his palms and kisses him. The whoop that goes up around them is ear splitting and they both cringe, but Khadgar doesn’t do things by half measures, and keeps kissing Derik until the stiff line of his mouth relaxes and he starts kissing back. 

Derik’s not terrible for a novice; Khadgar can feel when he starts to freeze up and over think it and when that happens he tugs at his hair, or shifts in his lap, and Derik forgets to second guess what he’s doing. Khadgar feels very pleased with himself once he finally lets Derik go, dragging the boy’s lower lip through his teeth as he does.

Khadgar sits back and beams into the circle of absolute silence around them. 

"There, no more never been kissed," he says proudly, and messes up Derik’s curls with both hands. "You're welcome."

Across the bed Jack, massive and blonde, a farmer's son from Lordaeron, grins widely at Khadgar. "I ain't ever been kissed either," he drawls.

The rest of the boys laugh, but shit, Jack’s huge, and Khadgar is just drunk enough that he’s not letting this opportunity pass him by. He slips off Derik’s lap and knee-walks across the bed to Jack, dropping himself across the other boy's thighs to a chorus of slightly shocked giggles. Jack’s a much less bony seat than Derik was, and Khadgar feels a little thrill twist through his belly. 

The thing is, Khadgar’s kissed quite a few boys; it's one of the major pastimes for the apprentices pretty much as soon as puberty hits. It was nice, and sure, Guardians had to refrain from attachment, but Khadgar thought he could handle that. Kissing was fun, but not enough to give up everything for it.

Then he turned sixteen, and that little tug of interest when he kissed a boy turned into an ache, then a flood. Khadgar is seventeen and walking around with a wildfire under his skin. As for his vows, well, he’s not the Guardian yet, is he? 

Jack grins down at him, wide and bright, and puts his hand on the back of Khadgar's neck to hold him steady. Jack has definitely been kissed, which Khadgar knew--- he’s more confident than Derik. The hand on Khadgar’s neck slides up into his hair and Jack takes a fistful of it in a solid grip. Khadgar gasps and arches into the pressure on his scalp. Jack pushes his tongue into Khadgar’s mouth and the kiss gets wet and loud.

“Shit,” someone breathes.

“Fuck, let him up for air, Jack,” someone else says, and they sound admiring.

There’s an extra hot twist of pleasure in Khadgar’s gut. They’re watching him, they _like_ watching him. A little moan slips out of him, not muffled enough against Jack’s mouth.

“See?” Jack says, pulling away from Khadgar. “He’s fine. He likes it.” Khadgar tries to get back to Jack’s mouth and makes another noise when he comes up against the grip on his hair, shivering a little and settling into Jack’s grip. 

“Yeah, but you’re hogging him,” says someone out of Khadgar’s line of sight, and everyone laughs.

“Well, excuse my manners,” Jack says dryly. He lets go of Khadgar’s hair and drops a soft kiss on his cheek. “Go ahead if you want, I didn’t mean to get greedy.” 

Khadgar hesitates a moment, but there’s a shivering eagerness, high and tight in the back of his throat at the thought of kissing the others. Of everyone watching him kiss the others. So he slides out of Jack’s lap and goes with the first pair of hands to catch his waist, ending up sideways in Ben’s lap, his legs across three other boys, getting kissed again. 

Ben’s a sweeter kisser than Jack-- not as much tongue, and he likes Khadgar’s bottom lip, sucks it into his mouth, uses his teeth until Khadgar feels raw and tender. When Ben lets him up, he’s pulled up on his knees and into another boy’s lap, the both of them nearly knocking heads and giggling so much that there are half a dozen false starts and stops to the kiss as one or the other breaks, but finally the boy cups Khadgar’s chin and draws him down for a kiss. It’s brief and close-mouthed and Khadgar feels a momentary tug of disappointment before the boy goes for Khadgar’s neck. By the time he lets go, Khadgar’s panting out helpless little “ah-ah-ah” noises, hands fisted tight in the other’s shirt and a blooming ache on his neck that will probably be a magnificent hickey.

The next kisser -- Khadgar thinks he should be trying harder to remember their names, but Light help him, he does not care right now -- is hesitant, shy, when Khadgar wobbles getting off a lap and lands face up across his thighs. Khadgar kisses him carefully, slow and sweet until the other parts his lips with a shivery little breath and touches his tongue tentatively to Khadgar’s lip. Khadgar hums happily. Then they’re done and the boy sits up, his whole face pink and pleased. Khadgar stretches -- he’s hard, but he has been since three kisses ago and no one’s mentioned it -- and rolls over, ending up belly down in the lap of the last one. Cyrus, with his curly red hair and affinity for frost magic, is the only one Khadgar hasn’t kissed. They were closer, before Khadgar was a novitiate. He tips his head against Cyrus’ knee and grins, feeling dopey and buzzing far more from the kissing than the liquor. Cyrus grins back, eyes crinkling, and nudges Khadgar’s cheek with his knee. 

“I’ve got something for you to kiss, yeah?” Cyrus says, and he can’t quite get through the sentence without laughing, wiggling his eyebrows and pressing his tongue into his cheek as he lifts his hips a little, half hard dick obvious through the coarse linen of his trousers.

There’s a chorus of groans, and someone throws one of the fussy little pillows at Cyrus’ head. Khadgar, sprawled across Cyrus’ knees, with heat and chills racing across his skin, takes the joke as both a dare and excuse, pushing up on his elbows to lean down and mouth a careful kiss across the shape of Cyrus cock through his trousers.

“Khadgar!” Cyrus yelps.

“Oh, fuck.”

Khadgar barely hears the exclamations, his heart beating hard in his ears as Cyrus jolts under him. Cyrus’ hand lands on Khadgar’s head, but he doesn't push him away. So Khadgar kisses him again, dragging his lips over the cloth and feeling Cyrus’ cock plump up. He opens his mouth over the head and kisses it like he was kissing Cyrus’ mouth. He wants the cloth of Cyrus’ trousers gone, wants skin and the tang of precome that he can smell on his tongue. Khadgar’s mouth floods with spit and he has to squeeze his eyes shut.

When his mouth is dry from the fabric, Khadgar lifts his face just a little, just to breathe and swallow, work some spit back into his mouth. He glances up and Cyrus’ eyes are huge.

“Do you want to?” Cyrus asks, quiet. It’s not the first time Khadgar has done this with Cyrus, but never like this. Never drunk, never in a room with five other boys watching, with five other boys Khadgar just kissed, with five other boys he wants to -- 

“Yeah, I really do,” Khadgar says, face hot but smiling. He feels like he could do anything right now.

“Alright.” Cyrus blows out a shuddery excited breath and reaches down to unlace his trousers.

Khadgar’s knees are starting to ache, but there's the wet head of a cock smearing across his cheek and pressing into his mouth and he sucks it deep in gratitude. They come on his face but the next one holds his head, lets him swallow and Khadgar thinks he says "thank you, thank you" before someone else drags his face down against their balls, heavy and soft and he licks and sucks until he's pulled away, another cock pressed between his lips again. The individual experiences melt into each other, and it's not that Khadgar's that drunk, it's just that he doesn't so much care right now. It’s like they scratched at his craving, the twist in his stomach he got when a boy touched him, and unearthed some endless yawning hunger. Khadgar’s tongue aches and his jaw hurts and his throat is raw and he doesn't want them to _stop_.

"Did you come in his mouth?"

"Let me see."

Someone cups Khadgar’s jaw in gentle hands, and a thumb tugs at bottom lip. He lets his mouth fall open. Come pools under his tongue and fills up the space between his bottom lip and teeth. The salt makes spit well up but he doesn't swallow-- they want to see-- and some of it slips down his chin.

"Oh, sweet Light." 

"Yeah."

They let him go, and he can close his mouth now. Khadgar lifts his chin so they can watch him swallow. There's a couple of groans, a few hands pet his hair and Khadgar smiles and soaks it up until the next one takes his head and guides him on to the next cock that presses into his mouth. This one's in no hurry and lets Khadgar play with him, rubbing the head against the inside of his cheek, pulling off to kiss the shaft and his balls.

When he’s done, Khadgar shakes his head and coughs. Someone steadies him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Let me --” He clears his throat again. “Let me lay down, my leg’s asleep.” Half a dozen hands help him down on the bed.

Jack presses up against Khadgar’s back and he’s soft and warm, padded, no hipbones or elbows digging into him. Khadgar arches back into him with a sigh, nuzzling into a thigh when someone kneels by his head. This one just wants to rub on his face for a while, and Khadgar lets his eyes drift shut, licks at the head playfully whenever it gets near his mouth and hears the other boy giggle and gasp when he catches it. 

Jack shifts behind him, not quite grinding, running warm hands across Khadgar's sides and belly, dipping into the waistband of his pants. Warm breath pools against his shoulder.

"Hey, let him lift up so I can get his pants off."

"Budge up, Khadgar."

Khadgar braces his feet on the bed and lifts his hips so they can pull his pants off. They’re a mess -- he’s already come once. There are a few snorts of laughter when his cock slaps wetly against his belly, including his own. 

"Nice," Jack says, and reaches around to touch him. Khadgar shudders and swats at his hand

"Shit, don't, I don't wanna come yet."

Jack laughs a little and it shakes Khadgar. 

"Okay, what about this?" Jack rubs a finger against Khadgar's hole. It’s nice, doesn't threaten to break his hazy drift like the hand on his cock does. 

"Yeah, that's good."

"Hey, gimme that oil, Cyrus."

Khadgar hears the pop of a stopper and then an oil-slicked finger is pressing into him. It’s nothing he hasn't done himself, but the angle is so much better with someone else doing it, and he moans as someone else shuffles up on their knees and presses their cock into his mouth. 

It's a little more hazy after that, with Khadgar’s whole body one long buzz of pleasure. At some point there are three of them kneeling around his head, jostling each other and grabbing onto shoulders to stay upright on the shifting mattress. All of them are crowding against Khadgar’s mouth and sliding wetly across his face, moans interspersed with giggling at the awkward mess of it. Khadgar is fighting a losing battle trying to pay attention to all of them with Jack’s fingers pressing into him, and so grateful he's panting. When they're finished his face is so covered, someone has to go get a washcloth before he can open his eyes. 

"Can I fuck you?" Jack asks, three fingers holding Khadgar open.

"Do it," Khadgar says, and twists back to kiss Jack clumsily on the mouth. “Yes, please. Fuck me.”

Feeling Jack’s erection pressed against his ass had not prepared Khadgar for the slick fat head of it opening him up and he moans and shudders, eyes squeezing shut. 

Jack pets his side. "Breathe, Khadgar, you've got it. You're taking it so good."

The praise loosens Khadgar up a little, his muscles unlocking. Jack slides in until his hips are pressed to Khadgar's ass.

Jack nuzzles the side of his face. "Good?" 

"Good," Khadgar gasps and then chokes out something embarrassingly like a wail when Jack pulls one of Khadgar's thighs up in his big hand and starts to fuck him.

He’s being touched so much, Jack’s big body pressed up behind him, the hand holding his leg up, all of it twisted around the aching press of Jack’s cock in him. It scrapes at him, overwhelming as Jack keeps going, his thrusts getting longer and deeper, and the feeling rising in Khadgar's throat is almost terror as Jack’s thick cock fucks into him. It's too much, and his eyes fly open, washed in light as Khadgar reaches, blindly, instinctively, for the arcane.

"Shit, his eyes!" Someone yelps and there's a quick jostling press of bodies and someone blessedly clamps a hand over his mouth. Khadgar grabs their wrist and presses the hand tighter in gratitude.

"Make sure he can breathe."

"For fucks sake, Derik, I’m not going to suffocate him.” It’s Cyrus’ voice, very close and his thumb gently stroking Khadgar's cheek.

A high, nervous giggle. "Holy shit Jack, you fucked the magic right out of him."

"I'm not surprised--have you seen his dick?"

"I can see his dick now. Khadgar's not gonna be able to walk."

The voices of the others, and Cyrus’ sure hand over his mouth, are grounding counterpoints to the fullness of being fucked and the feeling that rises and rises in Khadgar but never crests. Khadgar shudders between the two boys, held safe and sure as pleasure wracks up to something like torment. No one touches Khadgar’s cock until Jack, breathless and his thrusts getting ragged, tells them they're all fucking rude and for one of them to give Khadgar a hand. 

"I've got his mouth, and he's not letting go of me," Cyrus says.

"I’ve got him, shift over."

More jostling of bodies, then there's a hand on him, breath, then someone's tongue, a hot wet mouth sliding over his cock and Khadgar cries out behind the hand over his mouth as the tension in him crests and snaps and his orgasm washes over him in a rush. It goes on forever, his body clamping down around the bulk of Jack in him and shuddering forward into the mouth around his cock. Jack fucks into him a few more times hard and ragged, then stills, but the boy with his mouth on his cock keeps up his soft sucking until Khadgar is jerking and whining, tears welling up in his eyes. Jack reaches over Khadgar's hips and swats at the dark head.

"Let ‘im go, Derik, you're gonna break him." 

Derik lets go of his cock and Khadgar whimpers and twitches as Cyrus pries their hands away from Khadgar’s mouth and rubs gently at the marks left on his cheeks. Jack pulls out of him carefully, and Khadgar rolls onto his back, breathing hard. Jack strokes Khadgar’s side and stomach, still panting himself. Khadgar’s blood is fizzing and he shuts his eyes to enjoy it better.

"The fuck was in that wine?"

Laughter. Khadgar snorts.

"Better question: do we all get a turn at this too?"

The question prompts a low greedy murmur through the group and Khadgar opens his eyes, tips his head back to grin at them, and spreads his legs.

Later, when it’s nearly morning and there’s only Jack left, helping Khadgar to his room -- because he’s the biggest and Khadgar practically has to be carried -- Khadgar considers the possibility of regret. He prods at the concept of shame and, at least right now, finds it just that: a distant concept. He doesn’t feel ashamed, he feels...satisfied. A little smug. Wobbly.

Jack gets him into his room and onto his bed, stripping the clothes off him, and Khadgar manages to snag him into a brief kiss, sore jaw and bruised mouth and all. Jack laughs gently and presses Khadgar back down with one big hand on his head.

“You’re impossible.”

“I feel _amazing_ ,” Khadgar says, stretching and rolling onto his front to pillow his head on his arms.

“I bet,” Jack says fondly, stroking Khadgar from shoulders to thighs, stopping to squeeze his ass. “Oh,” he says, soft.

“Hmm?”

“You’re still, uh. It’s still leaking out of you a bit.” Jack brushes his thumb gently over the swollen, puffy rim of Khadgar’s hole.

“Mmm-hm,” Khadgar agrees, yawning into his arms. They’d cleaned him up pretty good before they left the suite, but still. Big mess. 

There’s a long beat of silence, Jack still petting delicately over abused, slick skin and sending shivers up Khadgar’s spine. 

“Can I--” Jack asks abruptly.

Khadgar says yes before he even gets the question out. Yes, of course, and he sinks his teeth into his pillow in delight as Jack’s tongue slips hot and wet over the sensitive skin of his hole.

*

“And that was it.” Khadgar makes an absent gesture. “I’m still not sure if I actually came again. I think I fell asleep or passed out first.” He winces. “Poor Jack, not the biggest compliment I could have given him.”

Lothar is slightly wild-eyed, sitting cross-legged across from Khadgar on the bed. Khadgar leans back on his hands, allows himself the smug feeling of victory. 

“So yes, Anduin, we got up to a few things in Dalaran when we were young. What about you?” Khadgar tips his head towards Anduin, makes his eyes big and innocently curious. “Any youthful indiscretions I should know about?”

Anduin opens his mouth, then shakes his head, glaring at Khadgar. “Oh absolutely not,” he says, irritation and arousal both very obvious. “How am I supposed to top that?” he asks, aggrieved.

Khadgar smirks. “Not my problem. Just because you weren’t adventurous as a young man is no reason to be ashamed, Anduin.”

Anduin’s eyes narrow and he rolls up to his knees, advancing on Khadgar across the bed. “Is that how it is, mage.”

Khadgar shrugs, biting his lip to keep his grin in check. Light, he does love to win.


End file.
